


We Finish Each Other's...

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5+1, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Friendship, psychic link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Skye fails to hack into Fitzsimmons' psychic link, plus one time she succeeds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Finish Each Other's...

1.

Jemma put one finger to her pursed lips and tapped them as she carefully studied Skye. From the moment Skye had stepped foot in the lab today, setting up her laptop at the counter across from Jemma’s lab bench, she had interrupted every single one of Jemma’s sentences. Every. Single. One. And as glad as Jemma was for the company, considering that Fitz was out on a supply run with Ward at the moment, the unrelenting interruptions were starting to grate on her nerves.

Jemma dragged her fingertip down her chin and curled it into her palm. With her fist propped under her chin, she asked, “What are you doing, Skye?”

Skye kept her eyes on her laptop screen. “Just running a search for-”

“Not on the computer, Skye,” Jemma cut in, only feeling a little bad for relishing the opportunity to interrupt her for once. “I meant, what are you doing in terms of our social interactions today?”

Skye looked up and widened her eyes, trying her best to look innocent. “Social interactions?” she asked, leaning casually against the lab counter. “No-nothing.” She brought one hand up to play with her hair, self-consciously winding a strand around a finger. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re just acting very -”

“Intuitive?” Sky suggested.

“...strange.” Jemma started to walk in circle around Skye, studying her. “It’s very curious. It’s almost like you keep trying to finish my…”

“Sentences?”

“...observations.” Jemma walked back around and planted herself in front of Skye, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Skye tried to match Jemma’s inquisitive look. She tilted her head to the side.

Jemma narrowed her eyes at her.

Skye blinked. “Damnit,” she muttered. So much for her perfect staring contest record. “Fine!” Skye covered her face with her hands and shook her head. She crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled forcefully, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m trying to hack into your psychic connection!” she admitted begrudgingly.

Jemma furrowed her brow in confusion. “My what?”

“Your psychic link!” Skye explained, tilting her head back down to make eye contact. “With Fitz! You know, how you guys are so tight and you know what the other person is thinking and you can finish each others’ sentences?”

Jemma shook her head. “What about it?”

“It’s just…” Skye shrugged. “I want in.”

Jemma started laughing, her shoulders shaking and her voice reverberating around the otherwise empty lab. “Oh, Skye,” she choked out.

Skye frowned, affronted. “It’s not that funny!” she protested.

Jemma covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her laughter, and shook her head. “No, no Skye, I’m not laughing at you - I promise. Don’t be angry.” She reached out with her other hand and held on to Skye’s arm. “It’s just that...what you want in on? It’s not a psychic link - it’s just friendship! And knowing what the other person is thinking is just what happens when you spend as much time together as Fitz and I have.”

Skye nodded. “See, this is good to know. As it turns out, there are not many opportunities to learn about this ‘friendship’ thing when you’re a hacktivist living alone in the back of your van,” she quipped. “So...for the sake of clarification, to get this not-psychic link, what do I do?”

Jemma grimaced in mock sympathy. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to spend a lot of time with me.”

2.

The motion-detecting lights in the corridor flickered on one by one as Skye and Fitz returned to the Bus through the hangar. Skye skipped along happily as Fitz followed with his arms weighted down with shopping bags.

“Okay!” Skye exclaimed excitedly, still running on the caffeine from the four shots of espresso she had downed in order to stay awake when her alarm went off at 2:30 a.m. “So when Simmons asks, ‘Where were you?’, you’re going to say, ‘We shopped,’ and I’m going to say-”

“Wait,” Fitz grunted, struggling to keep up with Skye as he carried the shopping bags full of electronics he had accompanied Skye to purchase at Best Buy’s Black Friday sale. “Are you trying to script our conversation with Simmons?”

Skye shrugged. “You did say that you would teach me how to do that thing where you and Simmons finish each others-”

“Sentences, yes, but that’s not something that is planned.” Fitz scrunched his face, like a drawstring pulling closed. “Or scripted, for that matter. You have to pay attention to the other person - what they’re thinking and feeling.”

Skye rolled her eyes as they walked up the Bus ramp into the garage. “So you’re telling me I have to walk be-”

“-fore you run, yes,” Fitz affirmed, as they walked up the stairs into the living area.

Skye shook her head. “Great, not only can’t I finish your sentences, but I can’t finish my sentences either.”

Everyone is still in their pajamas when they reach the top of the stairs, apparently having just awoken from their tryptophan-induced comas. Simmons rubbed her eyes groggily as she walked towards Fitz and Skye. “Hey,” she yawned. “Where were you two all morning?”

Fitz glanced at Skye, then grinned at Simmons. “Well, Simmons, we shopped…”

Skye just nodded.

Fitz frowned. “Skye. We shopped…”

Skye looked blankly at Fitz. Fitz gave her a meaningful look.

“Oh...Oh!” Skye exclaimed in understanding. “‘Til we plopped!”

Fitz groaned and dropped the shopping bags to the floor. Simmons just looked at them in confusion.

Skye frowned. “No, wait. That’s not right.” Why did her brain choose this moment to short-circuit? “‘Til we stopped!”

Fitz sighed. “Well, I suppose that is technically true.”

“Dropped!” Skye exclaimed, finally.

Simmons looked at Fitz. “Do I want to know?”

Fitz placed one hand on his hip and brought the other up to scratch the back of his head. “Probably not.”

3.

The thumping bass and flashing lights of the club were giving Skye a headache, but she continued to scan the room, looking for someone who might possibly be Simmon’s type. She was determined to be the best wingwoman Simmons had ever seen. After all, she _did_ promise Simmons a night of bad girl shenanigans.

Simmons drained the last of her obnoxiously pink cocktail. “Obviously, Skye, being a space cowboy would be far superior to being a ninja! Think about it!” She leaned across the table and poked Skye’s forehead a few times rather sloppily. “It doesn’t even compare!”

Skye shook her head. “No way,” she disagreed emphatically, surprised at how passionate she was getting over an argument she had started for the sole purpose of preventing Simmons from returning to the dance floor after she started doing the running man. “Being a ninja is the closest you can get to having invisibility without having actual superpowers.”

“Ladies.”

Simmons and Skye both turned their heads so quickly that they got whiplash from their hair. The man standing in front of them grinned, displaying his perfectly white and straight teeth. “Can I buy you ladies a drink?”

Skye looked him up and down and mentally went through Simmons’ checklist. He was definitely well-formed and had a low body-fat percentage. She wasn’t quite sure if he was symmetrical - nor how Simmons usually made that determination - but he definitely made her eyes happy, so she supposed he would do quite nicely.

Simmons swallowed, then smiled winningly. “I’ll have a Shirley Temple.” She leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. “Dirty.”

Skye resisted the temptation to facepalm.

The man nodded, laughing as though he had found the most adorable creature on the planet - which in fairness, wasn’t that far off because Jemma Simmons only ranks behind sugar gliders hugging pinky fingers and slow lorises eating miniature rice balls when it comes to adorableness. “Absolutely.” He turned to Skye. “And you?”

Skye raised her own half-full glass. “I think this is going to be my last of the evening, or else I’m going to have a really terrible morning tomorrow.”

After the man had left to order at the bar, Simmons leaned towards Skye excitedly. “That man has the-”

“-hottest body,” Skye finished.

“-ideal waist to hip bone ratio,” Simmons said at the same time. She paused as she processed Skye’s words. “That too, I suppose.”

Skye slid off her stool and onto her feet, stretched her arms out, and yawned. “Well, I have a killer headache AND a five o’clock meditation date with May tomorrow, so I’m going to head back.”

Simmons jumped to her feet as well. “Skye! No! You can’t leave me!”

Skye rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine, Simmons. Don’t worry - if you-”

“One dirty Shirley Temple,” the man announced, sliding the drink in front of Simmons. He grinned at her. “I’m Abdi, by the way.”

Simmons smiled at him and stuck out her hand. “Jemma.”

Skye took the opportunity to slink away unnoticed.

Like a ninja.

\--------

Meditation with May had somehow turned into a nap alone and it wasn’t until Skye felt her shoulder being shaken that she realized that May had left her.

“Simmons?” Skye yawned, taking in Jemma’s mussed hair and flushed skin, layered with a light sheen of sweat.

“Skye!” Simmons smiled brightly, plopping down in front of Skye and folding her legs criss cross apple sauce. “I just had-”

“Sex?” Skye guessed.

“-the most brilliant idea!” Simmons frowned. “Wait, what? No! Of course not! Who would I even do that _with_?”

Skye raised an eyebrow. “What about the guy you were talking to last night?”

Simmons wrinkled her nose. “Him?” she scoffed. “He was so _boring_. In fact, while he was talking, I was able to think of a possible solution to a roadblock Fitz and I had encountered in the lab the other day and I _had_ to come back right away to talk it through with him.”

“So you and Fitz…” Skye made a decidedly crude gesture with her fingers.

Simmon’s jaw dropped. “Of course not, Skye. Why would you even say that?”

Skye wiggled her eyebrows. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Simmons straightened her back. “I’ll have you know that I just completed a very vigorous run on the treadmill.”

“I’m sure it was very vigorous,” Skye snorted.

Simmons frowned and stood back up. “Just for that, I’m not sharing any of my gluten-free biscuits with you.” 

 

4.

Skye watched as Simmons and Trip blatantly exchanged looks of concern, apprehension, and discomfort. “Talking about my dad?” she guessed.

“I’m sorry,” Simmons sighed, shaking her head. “It must be so-”

“Messed up?” Skye suggested.

“I was going to use the off-color version of ‘messed up’, but it felt inappropriate.”

 

5.

As soon as she saw him, Daisy bounded up to Fitz from behind and wrapped him in a hug, practically tackling him to the sofa. “How was the date?” She sat on one of the cushions and pulled him down next to her.

Fitz scratched the back of his head. “She -”

“Declared her undying love for you?”

“-cried.”

Daisy furrowed her brow. “Tears of happiness when she saw all the effort you put in?”

Fitz sighed. “Daisy.” Her name came out heavily, as though weighed down with all the helplessness and concern and love Fitz felt when it came to Jemma Simmons.

Feeling a pang of pity, Daisy grabbed Fitz’s shoulder and pulled him into a hug, wrapping her other arm around his back.

“It’ll be fine,” Fitz said, his voice muffled by Daisy’s shoulder. “I just need to-”

“-give her time,” Daisy agreed.

“-try harder.”

Daisy pulled away, but kept her hand on his shoulder. “How in the world could you possibly try _harder_? What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done?”

Fitz just shrugged.

Daisy took one of his hands in both of hers and squeezed tightly. “Fitz, she just went through something traumatic - something we probably can’t even begin to understand. You have done so much - I think the only thing left to do is to be patient with her.”

Fitz frowned. “I could begin to understand if she could just _tell_ me -”

Daisy squeezed his hand again. “She’ll tell you,” she promised, sounding a lot more confident than she felt. “Just give her time.”

+1

“How was the mission?” Daisy asked, as Fitz fiddled with one of her gauntlets.

Fitz just shrugged.

“Mission?” Jemma whirled around from where she had been studying something in her microscope. “Is that why you haven’t been around the past couple of days?”

“You didn’t know?” Daisy asked in disbelief.

Jemma walked up to Fitz and tugged on his arm, silently asking him to face her. Fitz turned, but kept his eyes trained on the ground.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me you were going on a mission?” Jemma demanded. “Something could have happened to you - I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to...” Jemma’s voice faltered and she blinked back tears.

Fitz shrugged again. “I was worried you would say…” he mumbled. “I didn’t want to hope…I didn’t want you to...”

Daisy watched Fitz carefully. “Say something in the heat of the moment that would get his hopes up just because you were scared about what would happen,” she finished for him.

Jemma glanced at Daisy, then looked back at Fitz. “Is that true?”

Fitz just nodded.

Jemma reached out and took Fitz’s hand. “I know the timing has always been off,” she admitted. “But I haven’t...I meant...I’ve never…”

“Told you anything that she didn’t mean,” Daisy provided.

Jemma nodded. “Yes. That.”

Fitz pressed his lips tightly together. “I don’t want you to think...I thought you needed, you know…”

“Space to grieve?” Daisy guessed.

“Yeah,” Fitz mumbled.

Jemma stepped forward. “I don’t think I need that much space.”

Fitz’s head shot up to look at her. “But what about…”

Jemma shook her head. “He will always be special to me. But he’s not...you have to know, Fitz...there’s nobody…”

“Who means as much to her as you.”

“Almost,” Jemma whispered, her eyes still trained on Fitz’s.

“Who she’ll ever love as much as you.”

“Yes,” Jemma agreed. “That’s the one.”

Fitz took a deep, shuddering breath. “Daisy?” Fitz asked, his eyes not leaving Jemma’s.

“You want me to leave?” Daisy guessed.

“Yes, please.”

Daisy scurried out of the lab, but turned back at the doorway in time to watch Fitz and Jemma lunge at each other, Jemma grasping Fitz’s shoulders and Fitz wrapping his arms around her waist. Their lips met in a deep kiss that somehow managed to convey desperation and tenderness and, most importantly, understanding.

Daisy smiled to herself. “Nailed it.”

**Author's Note:**

> According to science, the waist to hip bone ratio that women ranked as most attractive in males is 9:10. I read the article a while back, so I couldn't find the link, but trust me - it's a thing.
> 
> Comments and constructive feedback are appreciated.


End file.
